The Untouchable
by Max452
Summary: Grissom in drawn into a deadly game of cat and mouse by a killer that calls himself The Untouchable
1. Default Chapter

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The Untouchable 

Title: The Untouchable

Author: Max Tyler

Email: [Max_01_09@yahoo.com][1]

Rating: R (for swearing and violence)

Spoilers: none (I don't think)

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DISCLAIMER- I do not own any CSI: Crime Scene Investigation people or places.

Summary: Grissom is drawn into a deadly game of cat and mouse by a killer who calls himself "The Untouchable".

Gil Grissom stared at the mutilated corpse that laid sprawled in front of him. It had once been a beautiful young woman, but had been reduced to a bloody piece meat. 

He began to carefully check the body for any fibers or anything out of the usual on the woman's body. Finding nothing but a small piece of grease under a manicured fingernail. But even that small thing was significant, because it appeared that she had been a well-groomed woman. Why would there be grease under her fingernail? 

Grissom heard a footstep and glanced up. Nick Stokes stood there, "Hey Grissom, haven't found 'nothing, how 'bout you?" Grissom stood, "Just some grease under one fingernail, but that in itself is strange, because she appeared to be generally well-groomed." 

The phone rang shrilly, and because they were finished with the crime scene, Nick picked it up, "Hello?" He listened for a moment, then thrust the phone at Grissom, "It's for you." Grissom picked it up, "Hello?" there was a pause, "Is this Gil Grissom?" the voice was male, but muffled, as if he was trying to disguise his voice. Grissom's alarm kicked off, and he said calmly, "Yes it is, may I ask who's calling?" "I killed that girl Grissom, and I wanna see if you can find me." Grissom paused, "How do I know you're for real?" The voice chuckled dryly, "Did you find the grease under her nail, I put it there for you, to see if you could find it." Grissom's eyes went wide, it was him. The voice continued, "I am the Untouchable, and I've heard you're the best CSI the cops have, well let's see if you can catch me." 

   [1]: mailto:Max_01_09@yahoo.com



	2. Chapter Two-Upping the Stakes

Grissom gently replaced the phone, his forehead wrinkling. "What's wrong?" Nick asked, seeing the look on his face. "That was a message from our killer." Grissom said, and told him what had been said. "Wow," Nick exclaimed, "That was weird, are you sure it was a real deal?" Grissom nodded, "Yeah, he knew about the grease, he told me he put it there for me to find." "That's creepy Grissom." Nick said shuddering. Grissom nodded absently, his mind on the murdered girl, and her killer. Who for some reason wanted to compete with Grissom.

Catherine Willows and Sara Sidel were waiting for Grissom and Nick in Grissom's office. Catherine glanced around at the many piles of folders stacked in the corners. Grissom was good, other states sent him reports to see if he could find what others had not. The end result, Grissom was always busy, swamped. He was always up late reviewing cases, and up early doing the same thing. Catherine, although she didn't want to admit it, sometimes worried about him. He was always in high gear, never relaxing. There was a knock at the door, and without pause, it opened and Greg Sanders strolled in, holding reports in one hand, and samples in the other. "Oh hi guys, is Grissom here, I have the lab reports and samples he wanted." Catherine shook his head, "He's at a crime scene, you can just leave it here." "Okay." Greg sat them gingerly on Grissom's table, then grinning, left. Catherine shook her head in exasperation, and Sara asked "What's wrong?" "Oh Grissom is just always so busy, he's going to wear himself out." Sara smiled mischievously, "Is someone having some warm, tender, maternal feelings for our esteemed leader?" Catherine shook her head quickly, feeling her cheeks warm up, "No, I'm just worried that it'll affect his performance." Sara punched her shoulder playfully, "Yeah right, you're hot for Grissom!" "I am not!" Catherine said forcefully, but Sara just laughed. 

Grissom had to stop by his house first before he went back to see what Sara and Catherine had wanted. He had to grab a case file he had been reviewing before he had went to bed last night. His house was dark, silent, and very organized. He picked up the file that was lying by the couch where he had finally collapsed last night. While glancing through it, he suddenly stiffened. His living room window was open, the black curtain blowing gently in the breeze. He started to turn, but only got half-way before something really hard slammed into his head. Blackness took over, and he fell with a thud to the floor. 


	3. Chapter Three- Not another one

When Grissom regained consciousness, he didn't immediately open his eyes. His head was throbbing, booming terribly. He groaned, and heard a female voice say, "He's coming around." With much effort, he opened his eyes, and saw blurry shapes. "Grissom?" the voice asked again, and he managed to mutter "Yeah?" He finally recognized the voice. It was Catherine. Grissom tried to struggle to his feet, but a hand reached down and restrained him, "Hey take it easy Grissom," that voice belonged to Nick, "What happened?" Grissom closed his eyes again, concentrating, he had came inside his house, noticed the curtain, and "Someone was in my house, hit me over the head." Grissom opened his eyes again, and his vision had somewhat focused. He saw Catherine, Sara, and Nick bending over him worriedly. "I'm okay." he assured them, as he climbed to his feet over their protests. He raised his hand to his head, and felt something sticky. He glanced at his palm, blood. Whoever had hit him, had done it really hard. Catherine reached up, and probed gently at the wound, grimacing. "You need stitches, come on let's go." Nick supporting Grissom, who was really wobbly on his feet, followed Catherine, Sara bringing up the rear. 

"I'm okay Catherine for the last time, I need to go to the office!" Grissom said heatedly as the group walked outside of the clinic. Grissom had eleven stitches in his head, and a "mild concussion". Catherine wanted him to go home and rest, but Grissom needed to go the office. Sara and Nick watched this argument with amusement, Catherine was acting like a mother hovering over her wounded child. "And that's it Catherine, remember who's boss around here." Catherine glowered at him, then said under her breath, "Fine you stubborn jackass!" 

Grissom was sitting in the blessed silence of his office. His head was throbbing, although he wasn't about to admit that to anyone. He held his head in his hands for a moment, but hurriedly put them down when his office door opened. Catherine was standing there, and he groaned inwardly, "Catherine, I told you I don't need" Catherine cut him off, "There's been another murder Grissom, looks like your Untouchable guy again." 


	4. Chapter Four- Collecting the Evidence

Gil's head ached fiercely, but he had to go the crime scene anyway. Catherine was watching him worriedly, his face was very pale. "Grissom, you know, we're not totally incompetent, we can handle a case without you." Grissom turned and glared at her for a minute, but his blue eyes were also vaguely amused. "Catherine, will you please…" he trailed off, and tried to find a nicer approach, "Catherine, although I appreciate your concern, I'm fine." He continued into crime scene, which was a rambling, three-story house. Inside, he found another young woman, sliced open, her skin now cyanotic blue from lack of oxygen. He had tortured her, then strangled her. Her eyes, dark brown, were open, bulging, staring sightlessly. Blood had made a obscene pool on the glossy tiles. Her slender arms were tossed out, as if reaching for help. One of them were bent far beyond a normal joint could bend. Obviously broken. Grissom knelt beside her, and began to carefully examine her body. Again, there was grease under her fingernails, which some of them were broken. After about twenty minutes, he finished with the girl's body. He stood, and called out, "Anyone have a I.D. on her?" A young cop came over to Grissom's side, "The house is registered to a Dana Jackson, thirty-one." Grissom frowned, "This woman isn't thirty-one, she's about twenty-three." The cop shuffled his feet, "Then I guess this isn't Miss Jackson?" Losing patience, Grissom snapped, "I guess not!" The cop hurried away, and Catherine was staring at him, "Uh, Grissom, did you have to yell at the twenty-year old cop? I think he's starting to cry." Grissom sighed, and Catherine's face softened, "Grissom just go home! You just had your head bashed in." "I can't, I'm on a case." Grissom replied, hardening himself, and continued to look around the crime scene. 

Grissom noticed something lying on the floor by the body. Piqued, he knelt down, and after donning a clean pair of gloves, picked it up. It was a shard of metal. He put in in a sack labeled evidence. 


	5. Chapter Five- Having a little chat

Grissom finished with the crime scene, and trudged wearily to his car. He heard someone vaguely calling his name, so he stopped, and turned. Catherine was running after him, "Grissom, do you think you'll be okay at your house?" A little humiliated at being treated like a five-year-old, Grissom nodded, "Yeah, I'll just lock my windows this time, goodnight Catherine." "But Grissom" He cut her off, "I said, Goodnight Catherine." He got into his car, while Catherine stood fuming, and after a moment, she couldn't hold it back. She flipped him the bird. 

The phone was ringing as Grissom cautiously unlocked the door to his house. "Hello?" he said, expecting to be Catherine to chew him out. "Hello Grissom, have you finished with my new body?" It was Grissom's best new friend, his head began to ache more fiercely. "Yes, I just got home, by the way, why did you try to give me brain surgery the first time I came in." The voice chuckled, "Just reminding you of the game." He paused, "Have you figured me out yet?" "No, do you want to give me a hint?" Grissom asked, not expecting a answer. "Now, now, you know I can't do that. It wouldn't be any fun." the voice replied. There was a moment of silence, then he said "Well Grissom, it's been fun talking to you, but I must go." "No don't hang up!" Grissom said quickly, but his plea was only heard by the dial tone. 


	6. Chapter Six- More concern!

Grissom stared at the phone, willing it to ring again. Finally, he gave up and went to lie down. But just as he was settling down, the phone _did _ring. He scrambled to his feet, and picked up the receiver,

"Grissom."

"Hey Grissom, heard about what happened and wanted to see how you were."

It was Warrick.

Grissom sighed, "Tell Catherine I'm perfectly all right."

Warrick laughed, "How'd ya know that Catherine told me to call?" 

"Because she's been hounding me all day, and not to mention it's my job to figure things out." Grissom replied, rubbing his fiercely aching head.

Warrick snickered, "Well, there's something else."

"What?" Grissom asked as he settled down in his soft leather chair

"They identified your latest vic." 

"Who was she?" Grissom grabbed a notebook to jot down the latest information

"Uh, her name was Kirsten Jackson, age twenty-one, a college freshman, aspiring actress." Warrick rattled off

"Any relation to the owner of the house? Her name is Dana Jackson?" Grissom asked

"Yeah, apparently it's her aunt, Kirsten's parents are both dead, so she lived with her aunt since she was twelve years old." Warrick replied

"The aunt know anything?" Grissom wondered aloud

"I dunno, you want me to go interview her?" 

"No, I'll do it, stay on your cases." Grissom said

There was silence on the other line

"Warrick, are you still there?" asked Grissom, knowing perfectly well he was

"Uh yeah, Grissom, Catherine told me to-"

"Catherine isn't the boss around here Warrick, she doesn't call the shots." Grissom said

"Yeah, but she threatened me with bodily harm if I let you go interview Mrs. Jackson." Warrick protested

"Yeah, well I'll go to the hospital to get your cast signed after she beats you, but I'm still going." Grissom said

"But Grissom-!" Warrick began to say

But there was only the hiss of the open line. Grissom had hung up. 


	7. Chapter Seven- The Interview

Grissom knocked on the door that he had visited only hours earlier. After a pause, the door was opened by a attractive, blond-haired woman in her middle thirties. Dana Jackson.

"Are you Dana Jackson?" Grissom asked

The woman nodded, tears running down her pretty face, "Yes."

'I'm Gil Grissom with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, may I come in and talk with you?" 

Dana nodded, "Yes, come in."

"She was like a daughter to me, I loved her so much." Dana said, her voice choked with grief

"She lived with you since she was twelve?" Grissom asked

"Yes, her parents were killed in a car accident, so she came to live with me shortly after." Dana said, her voice still full of shock 

"Um, I'm sorry to burden you with this, but did Kirsten have any enemies or anyone who would want to hurt her?" Grissom asked gently

Dana shook her head, beginning to shake, "No, everyone liked Kirsten, everyone…" she trailed off, before breaking into hysterical tears

The interview with Dana Jackson had gone nowhere. Kirsten had been a outstanding student, got good grades, was smart and beautiful and nice. Everyone had liked her, and had been shocked by her murder. Grissom's cell phone rang, and he picked it up quickly, "Grissom."

"Grissom, what in the hell are you doing?"

It was Catherine. 

"I just got done interviewing Dana Jackson." Grissom replied coolly

"I thought I told Warrick-" she started, but was cut off abruptly by Grissom, 

"You can't order me around Catherine." he said blandly

"I'm just looking out for you." Catherine said quietly

Grissom felt a rush of guilt, "I'm sorry Catherine, but I have to solve this case." 

Catherine sighed audibly on the end of the line, "Fine, but let me help you."

Grissom hesitated for a moment, "Fine." 


	8. Chapter Eight- A big threat

"So, we have, two dead girls, grease under their fingernails, and that's it?" Catherine asked 

"And a small piece of metal, I found it at the last crime scene." Grissom said absently, he was busy running the pieces through his head, and trying to get the solve the puzzle. 

Catherine sighed, "Well, it looks like this is going to be a really interesting case."

Grissom was once again at home, plopping down on his sofa, millions of fragmented thought flowing through his aching head. The phone rang suddenly, jolting him upright.   
"Hello?" he asked cautiously 

"Hey Grissom!" said a cheerful voice on the other end. It was Greg

"Hello Greg, what do I owe for this wonderful telephone call?" Grissom asked sardonically

"Just calling ya 'bout your test results on the grease underneath your girls' fingernails." Greg said

"What?" Grissom asked patiently 

"It was plain old oil grease, like the stuff that goes in your car." Greg said 

"Really?" Grissom muttered, his mind spinning, the shard of metal. A mechanic? Someone who worked with cars and oil? 

"Thank you, Greg, I'll see you later." Grissom finally said

"Same to you Grissom." Greg replied, hanging up the phone

Grissom hung up the phone, and started to dial Catherine's number, when he realized he heard breathing on the line. 

"Hello?"

"Hello Grissom, how are you?" Grissom's head began to ache even more fiercely when he heard the voice; it was the Untouchable.

"I'm just fine, how are you?" Grissom said calmly, trying to show him who was in charge

There was a slow chuckle on the other end, "I'm great, thanks for asking. How was the interview with Kirsten Jackson's aunt? I believe her name is Dana, is it not?"

Grissom felt a infuriated anger start to burn in his chest, but he forced himself to sound indifferent, "If you've been following me that closely, then you should know how it went."

Another chuckle, "You're _so _angry right now, aren't you Grissom? You want to know who I am so badly, but you can't figure it out."

Grissom decided that he had enough of the pompous killer, "No, actually you're just annoying me. You're like a bad virus, you just won't go away."

There was a small silence on the other end, "I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that."

"Oh, but I did, you feel good picking on young girls who can't fight back? Well, why don't you try me on for size. You see, I _can _fight back." Grissom taunted

A harsh, dry chuckle, "Don't mind if I do, just wait, I _will_ be coming for you. You can count on it."

"Really?" Grissom asked

But again, he was talking to the dead line. 


	9. Chapter Nine- Danger Rising

Author's Note: _I'm sorry I'm not getting this story (or any other one for that matter) up very fast. Between school and work, my time is very scarce. Just try and be patient with me, and I'll get it up as soon as I can._

Grissom gently replaced the receiver back on the hook, smiling grimly. Sure, making the killer mad probably wasn't such a good idea, but maybe the attention would be shifted off some innocent girl on to him. And he stood a better chance at surviving the gruesome little game this guy was playing than a young kid. 

The next morning, Grissom arrived at the lab early to review their case so far. He was deeply entranced when Catherine came in at 9:00. 

"Grissom!" she said loudly, startling him out of his thoughts

"Catherine." he replied, recovering with remarkable timing

"Shouldn't you be getting just a little rest?" she asked, frustrated with him all over again

"Not when there's a killer roaming around." he said calmly

A knock at the door saved him from a brutal tongue lashing. "Come in!" he called, forcing fake cheerfulness into his voice 

A young secretary stood hesitantly in the doorway, obviously she had overheard their heated conversation, and didn't want to interrupt., "Package for you Mr. Grissom."

Grissom gave a false smile, "Thank you."

She handed it to him, then gave a fake smile of her own, the high-tailed it out of harm's way

"I wonder what this is? I can't remember ordering anything that should arrive today." Grissom muttered to himself

But Catherine overheard him, "You're so busy and overworked, you can't remember anything."

Grissom didn't reply

"Grissom?" Catherine asked, a little alarmed, she strode over to his side, and followed his gaze to the contents of the package

It showed the pictures of the Untouchable's victims. And written neatly over the photographed gore, in thick black marker, said "Hope you like my present. You're next Grissom."

Catherine lost herself for a moment, and gasped, staring from the pictures, to Grissom's face. Strangely however, his face held no fear. Only anger. 

"We're gonna catch this stupid son-of-a-bitch." was all he said


	10. Chapter Ten- In Deep Trouble

Catherine was scared. And she wasn't a woman who spooked easily.

"Grissom this is serious. This freak has already murdered two women. What's to stop him from doing the same to you?" she asked, deeply concerned

Grissom didn't answer; he was too busy studying the photographs of the dead women

"Grissom!" Catherine half-yelled, concern sharpening her voice, making it harder than she meant it to be

Finally he glanced up, "I heard every word you said Catherine."

Catherine began to answer, but knew it was a waste of breath, and settled for throwing her hands helplessly in the air

Detective Jim Brass was not scared, he had seen and heard many things in his years of duty, but he was concerned. Grissom was his friend, and this killer was sounding serious.

"Gris, how 'bout taking a few days off, and let the police watch your house." Jim suggested

Grissom didn't even glance up from the case file, "You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" Jim asked, sitting in a chair, his brown eyes intensely focused upon Grissom

"I'm not leaving in the middle of a case." Grissom said calmly

Finally, Jim let the frustration he was showing creep into his voice, "Damn it Grissom, I just want to keep you alive!"

Grissom stared at Jim for a moment, "Brass, everything will be okay. You don't have to worry about me."

Jim slumped a little in his chair, "Grissom, I know you hate being watched, your privacy is sacred to you, but can't you just sacrifice it one time?"

Grissom sat a little straighter in his chair, "It's not about that. It's about the case, you should know that."

After a few moments of arguing and lots of heated glares, Jim finally gave up. Underneath his easy going exterior, Grissom had a touch of steel to him. 

"Fine, but I'm going to keep a guard posted by here," he said wearily "And that's final!"

"Whatever you say Jim." Grissom stood, and headed for the door

"Where are you going?" Jim asked worriedly

"Talk to Dana Jackson." Grissom said over his shoulder, and hurried out

Jim slumped even lower in his seat, "Stubborn ass!" he muttered to the empty room

Grissom breathed a sigh of relief, relieved to be outside, out from under Brass's intense scrutiny. And his accusations. Grissom hated to admit that Brass _was _partly right. He didn't want a cop following him everywhere. He was a private person, no one, not even Warrick, Sara, Nick, or Catherine knew much about his life outside work. 

Truth be told, he didn't have much of life. He had his books, insects, his crossword puzzles, and his work. That was about it. But it was _his _life, boring and simple as it might be, and he didn't want anyone intruding upon it. 

He got into his car, and headed for the direction of Dana Jackson's house. He was halfway there when he noticed a plain black car following him. With such strong tinting on the windows, it was impossible to see the driver. 

Grissom quickly made a hard left, in the opposite direction of Dana Jackson's house. The car followed. Grissom continued to maneuver the car wildly, trying to get away, but the black car stayed on his trail. Without warning, it suddenly sped forward, and rammed into the back of his car. Grissom slammed forward hard into the steering wheel, his recently stitched head exploding with pain. 

But he couldn't just sit there, so he straightened, and yanked hard on the steering wheel. The car lurched to the side, and the black car followed.

Grissom felt something wet trickling down his forehead, and realized his head was bleeding again. He stepped harder on the gas.

But the black car did the same.

Grissom swallowed hard, how was he going to get out of this? 


	11. Chapter Eleven- Square One

Grissom steeled himself for another hard jostle, but suddenly the car backed off. His cell phone rang, and he quickly picked it up, "Grissom."

"Was that fun for you Grissom?" 

He was filled with a helpless fury, "Yeah, better than the Ferris Wheel. Why did you stop?"

The Untouchable chuckled, "Because for right now, I'm just fucking with you. Just to show you how easily I can get to you. That when I do decide to do it, you won't even have a clue."

"You scared now Grissom?" the voice continued mockingly in his ear

"No, because I'm going to put your ass in jail." Grissom said

"Sure you are. Because you're the big, bad CSI agent. You can catch _anyone. _But really, you're just a pathetic loser. Does it make you feel better after you catch one of us? That it's okay that you failed your mother, Candice McIntyre-"

"Shut up." Grissom said, feeling weak and used up now

"Oh, did I hit a nerve? You sound testy." the Untouchable laughed, a hard and harsh sound

"No." Grissom said, lying through his teeth

"Oh, but I think I did. That's okay though Grissom, you won't feel bad for long."

Grissom drove back to the lab, and got out to examine the back of his car. It was a mess. He whistled low in his throat. His insurance agent wasn't going to be happy.

Nick, who apparently saw him pull in, jogged out to meet him.

"Hey Grissom, about that- Holy shit!" 

Grissom glanced up, and he saw that Nick had noticed the car

"What the hell happened," Nick asked, shifting his focus from the car, to Grissom "Your head's bleeding again."

Grissom absently touched his head, and his fingers came away stained crimson. "It's a long story. But it knocked some things into focus. Come with me to talk to Dana Jackson."

This time, they got there safely. Dana Jackson's eyes, already red and swollen from crying over her dead niece, widened as she took in Grissom's battered appearance.

"Mr. Grissom, are you all right? Let me get you a towel for that." she said, hurrying off to another part of the house

"Come in, and make yourselves comfortable." she said over her shoulder

Nick sat, but Grissom remained standing, not wanting to smear blood anywhere

"So tell me, what happened?" Nick asked again

"A friend of mine decided to rear end me." Grissom said simply

Now it was Nick's eyes that widened, "Was it that creepy guy that called you from the murder scene?"

Wincing, Grissom nodded

"Geez, Grissom, you better get Brass on-"

"He's already been talking with me." Grissom interrupted 

Dana Jackson hurried back in the room with a towel, a icepack, and some bandages in her arms. 

"Mr. Grissom, what happened to you? You look awful. You're going to have a terrible bruise." she said, motioning for him to sit on a easy chair

"It's okay, I better not." Grissom said, motioning towards his head

"Oh it's all right. Nothing can hurt that chair." she said, pushing him gently towards it

He reluctantly sat, "Mrs. Jackson, I have another question for you about Natalie."

Dana Jackson paused for a moment, pain slashing across her features, but then continued to tend to Grissom's head. "Okay, go ahead."

"Did she go to a mechanic's anytime before her death?" 

The question seemed to surprise the woman, and Grissom didn't blame her. It was a standard question into a murder investigation.

"No, she rarely used her car. The college was nearby, so she usually walked…" Dana trailed off, "Why?"

Grissom frowned, "We found some grease under Natalie's fingernails, and it proved to be oil."

Dana Jackson stood still for a moment, concentrating, "No, she hasn't been to a mechanic for at least four years."

Grissom sighed, disappointment flowing through him, "Well thank you for your time, and for helping me."

She smiled, but tears were flowing down her face, "You're welcome."

As they left the Jackson home, Grissom frowned, "Now we're back to square one."

Nick glanced at Grissom, concerned, "And you're running out of time." 


	12. Chapter Twelve- On my head

Following Grissom's orders, Nick reluctantly dropped him off at his house. As he let himself in, thoughts he couldn't stop swirled in his head. The Untouchable had struck a nerve, and broke down his defenses. Now he was thinking of victims he couldn't save. 

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He remembered his mother, Angela Grissom. Her dark brown hair, flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes. She had been prelingually deaf, or had been born deaf. Her marriage to her husband, Paul, had been a unhappy one. He had refused to learn sign language, so they could hardly communicate. But she had stayed because of Grissom. He had been so different that his father, he had learned sign language, learned it well. He knew it almost better than his mother did. But some people, people like his father, were afraid of the Deaf community. That using their silent language, they could tell secrets, plot against them. His father hated it when Grissom talked to his mother. He would get terribly angry. First, he started with mental, emotional, and verbal abuse. Threats and name-calling. But by the time Grissom was seven, it had escalated into physical violence against both him and his mother. And Grissom had been powerless to stop it. Finally, it all came to a terrible end when he was twelve. Paul came home from work, drunk, and spoiling for a fight. He found Grissom and Angela discussing a project that he was doing in school. Paul became enraged, and gave Grissom the beating of his life. Angela tried to intervene, and Paul grabbed her by her long dark hair, and drug her out of the room. Grissom, broken and bleeding, crawled after them. And made it into their bedroom just in time to see Paul shoot Angela in the head. Then turn the gun on himself.

Grissom closed his eyes, trying to banish the memory of watching his mother's brains splatter all over her bedroom. And then his father, turning the gun on himself. Grissom had called 911, but of course, there was nothing they could do for his parents. Grissom had received a broken arm, ribs, nose, and severe bruising that day. He vaguely remembered the hospital stay that followed, but he always remembered his mother, watching her die…

And of course, there was also the death of Candice McIntyre on his head.

When he had just began as a CSI, they had a murder of a pimp. A bloody, grotesque murder. Which sixteen-year-old , Candice McIntyre, had witnessed. Grissom had everything he needed to put the killer away, except they couldn't locate him. And during the intense manhunt, the killer managed to slip into the safe house where Candice was staying, and brutally slaughter her. Because Grissom couldn't find him fast enough.

Grissom held his head in his hands, those memories flashing in his head, spinning like a morbid merry-go-round. He decided that he was not going to have any more deaths occur because of him. He was going to stop the Untouchable… even if it killed him. 

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	13. Chapter Thirteen- A Lead

Following a hunch, Grissom called Dana Jackson, and asked about Natalie's friends. Bewildered, the woman said that Natalie had many friends, but mainly hung out with a fellow acting student by the name of Kayla Brooks…

"I still can't believe it." Kayla Brooks was clutching a tissue in her slender hand, tears running from bloodshot eyes.

Grissom was sitting in her apartment, waiting patiently for her to compose herself

"I'm sorry, I just, well, she was like my sister, ya know?" Kayla asked, her dark blue eyes tortured

Grissom nodded, pretending understanding. He really didn't, because he had never let anyone get that close to him

"Kayla, I don't want to remind you of your grief, but I have a question." Grissom said gently

The girl clutched the tissue harder, her knuckles going white, and she bit her lower lip… but she nodded

"When you and Natalie went to parties, did one of you have a accident? And maybe wreck her car, and have to go to a mechanic?" Grissom asked

Her eyes widened, and Grissom knew that his hunch had been correct

"How did you know?" she asked

"Just a guess." Grissom replied

"We went to a party about a month ago. We both got drunk, and didn't bother asking anyone to drive us home. We thought we were okay to drive. We kind of smashed into a tree, and Nat freaked. She knew her aunt would murder her, so she kept quiet, and we took it to a station out of town. In Laughlin. It was called SuperAuto"

Grissom smiled for the first time in days. He had a lead. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen- Yet another victim

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The Untouchable smiles as he watches Grissom walk out from the college. He knows that Grissom was interviewing Natalie Jackson's friend, Kayla Brooks. Good job Grissom, you're on the right track… but you're too slow, once again. The killer even walks silently by Grissom, passing him, laughing to himself, because he knew that Grissom had no clue to his identity. He giggles as he watches Grissom get in his car and drive away. He had already planned his next victim… Kayla Brooks. Wouldn't Grissom feel bad when he finds the young woman he had just been interviewing will be his next victim to investigate. 

Slipping silently into Kayla Brooks's apartment, he felt a rush of adrenaline. Finally, he would get his revenge.

Grissom picked up his cell phone, and dialed Catherine. 

Without waiting, he said "I'm going to Laughlin."

"What?" Catherine asked, confused

"Natalie Jackson's best friend told me that they were involved in a car accident a month ago. They went to a mechanic in Laughlin." Grissom said, shifting the phone by his ear

"Oh," Catherine said after a moment of silence, "Want company?"

Grissom started to say nom but remembered her friendly concern. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. "Sure. I'll swing by and pick you up."

Catherine gasped when she saw his new injuries from the car incident.

"Nick told me about that…but I didn't… are you sure you're okay?" she asked, biting her lower lip nervously

"Yeah, I'm fine." Grissom assured her, and although he did have a monstrous headache, he was feeling better. He then filled her in on the case.

They drove a few miles in a silence that was not uneasy. Catherine glanced over at him after a moment, "Why do you think he's competing with you?" 

Grissom was silent for a few minutes, and Catherine wasn't sure that he would answer her, "I don't know."

Just then, Grissom's cell phone rang, and he picked it up quickly, "Grissom."

"Hey Gris." came a voice that should've been normally cheery, but was now restrained with worry. It was Nick.

"Hey Nicky. What's up?" Grissom asked, keeping his eyes focused on the stretch of highway

"We've got another Untouchable victim." Nick said, his voice solemn

"Okay, we'll turn around, then I'll come back to Laughlin later. What's the address?" Grissom asked

His face turned blank as Nick told him, "All right. I'll be right there."

"Grissom?" Catherine asked

He didn't answer

"Grissom? What's wrong?" Catherine asked, her voice rising with concern

"The Untouchable just got another one." he said, his voice hard and rocky

"Do they know the vic is?" Catherine queried hesitantly 

"_They_ don't yet. But I do." Grissom almost whispered, "It's Kayla Brooks. I recognized the address." 

Catherine said nothing, as Grissom stomped on the gas, and they turned around, and headed back for Vegas. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen- A message

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(Sorry these are so short… but as I wrote earlier, school is highly pressing… I get stuff done when I can. Hope you do enjoy this, even though it isn't that long.)

Grissom was okay until they reached the crime scene. Then the realization that the victim was going to be someone he had just talked to only hours before, flooded his consciousness. His features were set, and stony, his eyes hard as he climbed out of the car.

"What's wrong? Catherine asked softly, although she thought she already knew

"That this victim is someone I just talked to awhile ago. She was alive, mourning for her friend, but she was alive… now she's just another dead body." Grissom said, his voice rocky, and uneven

Catherine, knowing him well enough that a response wasn't needed, just nodded

"I have to catch this bastard." Grissom muttered

The bitter, metallic tang of blood hovered in Kayla's Brooks's room. Grissom swallowed hard, but tried to pretend that he hadn't been with this girl earlier. She was another nameless corpse, who's killer needed to be found. He wanted to groan as he spotted the body, huddled in the corner. Her hand were splayed out, as if begging for help that she hadn't received. He sighed, and walked over, kneeling beside the naked body. Like her friend, Natalie Jackson, her skin had turned the chalky whitish-blue of a corpse. Her face, formally pretty, now resembled raw hamburger. Unlike Natalie, this girl had obviously been a victim of someone in a rage. She had been viciously stabbed, and beaten. Grissom's hands fluttered over the body, conducting the proper ministrations. Catherine watched him with something like awe, _I couldn't do that, _she thought, _if someone that I had just talked to was dead, I don't know if I could handle it, especially if it was a young girl like this…_

She watched Grissom as he picked up a piece of paper that had been lying next to Kayla, and he scanned it briefly, then shook his head.

"What is it?" Catherine asked, and quickly walked behind him, and read over his shoulder

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She shouldn't have told you about the mechanic. Now she's paid the ultimate price… as will you Grissom.

Catherine glanced at Grissom, who's jaw was clenched. "Let's get Brass, and head for that station."

Grissom nodded in agreement, but Catherine could tell that he hadn't really heard her. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen- And the killer is?...

The police cars roared into the SuperAuto in Laughlin, Nevada. Grissom, who was riding with Catherine and Brass, quickly got out as soon as the car came to a stop.

"Hey slow down Grissom." Brass warned

Grissom glanced back, saw Brass's tense face, and nodded. He backed away obediently, although he was bursting inside.

He watched as the cops drew their guns, and went cautiously inside. Brass went forward, and Grissom and Catherine followed…

One young looking officer had a greasy-looking mechanic by the wrist. The name Mike was inscribed in red thread on the dirty coveralls. 

Grissom strode over, looking the man over. He was thin, with grease smeared, frail features, and he was trembling in fear.

"Hello Mike." Grissom said almost gently

Mike didn't answer, just continued to tremble

"Where have you been the past few days Mike?" Grissom asked

Finally, they got a response, the man licked his lips, "Here, I was here. Why, what do you think I did?"

"You're under suspicion for a triple homicide." Grissom replied

The man paled, "Homicide? I never hurt anyone before in my life."

"Well, until we figure out for sure, you're coming with us." Brass said, and read Mike his Miranda rights. Leaving Grissom and Catherine to work the SuperAuto.

Grissom sighed as he unlocked his front door, and went inside, his arms full of files. The mechanic, Michael Charles Harper, had a air-tight alibi for all of the murders. He was now back to trying to pinpoint another suspect. He flipped on a lamp, and collapsed into a chair. He began to flip through a folder of employees of the SuperAuto. As he flipped down through the names, and his eyes suddenly widened at one of the names. 

It was a receptionist.

Named Kali McIntyre.

Candice McIntyre's mother. 

Suddenly, everything began to fall into place. 

The killer was playing games… games of _revenge_. The killer had deliberately brought up Candice McIntyre's murder… not only to rattle Grissom, but to give him a clue. But he had missed it.

The killer was Kali McIntyre.

"Kali McIntyre is the killer." he said aloud

He jumped when he heard clapping behind him and spun.

Kali was standing behind him, "Well done Mr. Grissom. I thought you'd never figure it out."

"Why did you kill those girls?" Grissom demanded hoarsely

"To get back at _you_! You let my daughter die!" Kali screamed 

"Those girls didn't do anything." Grissom protested

But it didn't matter. Kali was beyond the reach of sanity. She raised a gun in her slender hands, aimed it carefully at Grissom's chest… and pulled the trigger. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen- Overwhelming Pain

Consciousness slowly came to Grissom. He was only aware of two things at first. That his head ached something fierce, and that wherever he was, that it was damn cold. Then, he remembered Kali McIntyre… she had a gun, shot him. But hell was supposed to be hot, so he couldn't be dead.

Painfully, he opened his eyes. He was still inside his house, but was lying on the cold floor. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound. He raised his head a millimeter, and noticed the front of his shirt had a charred look to it. Electrical discharge. She had used a stun gun, not a revolver.

He heard light footsteps, and quickly closed his eyes, pretending to still be unconscious.

"I know you're awake Mr. Grissom. I was standing in the doorway, watching you." her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

Okay. So that wasn't going to work. Grissom opened his eyes, and stared up into her cold face. "So, what are you planning on doing?"

She smiled now, a unsettling thing, for it was not a pleasant smile. It was demonic, for a unholy, almost evil gleam had came into her clear blue eyes.

"See, I read the coroner's report. I know what happened to my baby. So, I'm going to do the same thing to you." she said smoothly, almost in a sing-song sort of way

She went behind his sofa, and picked up a… sledgehammer? This wasn't looking very good.

"Let's see. My Candice had a broken arm. So, hold still, this might sting a little." she said, giggling as she rotated her arms, and brought the hammer down on Grissom's right arm with a sickening crunch.

Grissom closed his eyes as the violent wave of pain shot up from his arm. He thought he might've have screamed.

"Same thing with the foot." 

Again, the hammer swung down, and with deadly precision, shattered the delicate bones of Grissom's foot. This time, he thought, he definitely screamed.

Finally, Kali sat the hammer down. She stood for a moment, admiring her handiwork. Then she frowned, checking her watch. "Better hurry." 

She disappeared from the living room, Grissom swallowed, the sharp, stabbing pain threatening to make him black out. He shook his head, trying to ward it off. He had to get out of here. He was still trying to clear his head, when Kali returned as quickly as she had left. With a razor sharp kitchen knife in her hand. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen- Things left unsaid

Grissom tried to appear unmoved, but his blue eyes kept flickering from Kali's face, towards the blade she held clenched in her small hands. 

"Have you ever considered your mortality Mr. Grissom?" Kali whispered 

Grissom studied the knife, considering the question for a moment, "Yes."

She crouched over him, eyes gleaming "When?"

"After my parents died. I wanted to join them. Often thought about it." Grissom said calmly

"Because you couldn't save your mother?" she hissed

Grissom nodded, "I missed her. I didn't particularly miss my father, but I did miss her." he wondered where this was heading to. Having a little chat about death with a serial killer.

"After Candice was murdered, I sat in my bathroom, a razor to my wrist, wondering what was left for me in life. I was so close to doing it when I realized I still had something left to do before I died." she said, her voice almost inaudible, caressing the blade

Grissom raised his eyes to meet hers, seeing the pain, the rage, the insanity… "What was it?"

"To kill you!" she shrieked and plunged the knife high in Grissom's leg

Grissom yelled, pain like a raging wildlife spreading up his body into his brain. He wanted to reach down, take out the blade, but couldn't. His combined wounds seemed to throb in synchronized rhythm with his heart. 

"You see, Candice was also stabbed and sliced like a fucking thanksgiving turkey. That's what your going to look like." Kali crooned to him 

She jerked the knife from his left leg, and moved over to his right. She held the blade, his blood dripping off it, looking like thick red paint. Then let it come down again. And again.

Grissom closed his eyes, thinking of his team. What he wished he would have said to them. They all meshed into one warm thought. 

Sara, you work to much. You need to have a life outside THE JOB. Don't end up like me. Don't spend your life obsessing over the bad guys that got away.

Catherine, thanks for caring about me, even though I don't know why you bothered. You're a great mom, don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise.

Nick, you're a great guy. Catherine told me what happened, but don't let it eat you up inside. Some people just shouldn't be trusted. But most people can.

And Warrick, don't become anyone else's pawn in life. Take a hold of your own destiny…

And he waited for the final and deadly blow… 


	19. Chapter Nineteen- The rescue

Author's note: _(Sorry about the 911 thing. As Sue said, 911 wasn't started until the 1980's. And by the way, I am under 25... I'm only 16 so I hope you can forgive me!)_

Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Sara, and Brass all sat around the table in the Investigation room. They were studying the files that Catherine and Grissom had confiscated from the SuperAuto. Seeing if there was any connection…

"Damn, I can't believe that Mike guy had a alibi." Sara muttered, thumbing through papers

Warrick and Nick nodded. Brass and Catherine were too busy to reply. 

It was quiet.

"So where's Grissom?" Sara asked Catherine

"I finally convinced him to go home for awhile." Catherine replied absently

"Wait a minute!" Brass shouted, peering intently at a paper in one of the SuperAuto employee folders.

"What is it?" Nick asked, crowding over

"Kali McIntyre." Brass said, thinking hard

"What about her?" Warrick asked, confused

"When Grissom was first assigned to the CSI, we had a gruesome murder case. A pimp had been sliced to pieces. This woman, Kali McIntyre, her daughter, Candice witnessed the murder. Anyway, she came forward, Grissom was working hard to find the killer, but we got him… but not before he killed Candice McIntyre." Brass said, the expression on his face telling them all about the murder.

"Was the mother angry?" Catherine asked, tense and ready to pounce

"Oh yeah. Went off the deep end, if I remember correctly." Brass said

Catherine inhaled sharply "Then this competition with Grissom… it could be her way to get even with him before she…"

"Killed him." Brass finished

"I better call Grissom and ask him what he thinks." Catherine said, shooting to her feet.

She disappeared out in the corridor, but returned quickly, fear written plainly on her face "There's no answer." 

The five exchanged horrified glances and without saying a word, jumped to their feet, and ran out of the room.

"So… any last requests Mr. Grissom?" Kali asked, her voice flat

Grissom, consumed with red hot pain, didn't answer… couldn't answer.

"Okay, you want to die without any final words, that's fine with me." she said, and the knife started on it's final descent. That's when the door flew open.

All the way to Grissom's house, Catherine was frozen. Had they found Grissom's tormentor too late to save him? She leaned forward as if she could make the car go faster. She could see Grissom's house. All of the lights were off, except for the one in his living room. If he was in the living room, why didn't he answer the phone? Something had to be terribly wrong. The car stopped, and Brass jumped out, motioning for the four CSI's to stay behind him. He drew his gun, and quietly crept up the stairs. Then pausing for only a second, he kicked the door in.

Grissom opened his eyes as he heard his door fly open. Then, framed in the doorway, was one of the most beautiful sights in the world. Brass was standing there, his pistol aimed squarely at Kali McIntyre. Catherine, and the rest of his team was behind Brass. Kali froze, the knife held in mid-air.

"Hold it right there." Brass said, his voice hard

Kali held still, as if cooperating. But then she shrieked, her voice sharp as glass, and lowered the knife. Grissom closed his eyes again, waiting to die. But a bullet ended Kali McIntyre's tyranny.

She uttered a low moan, and tipped over. Brass stood, his pistol smoking. 

"Thanks." Grissom said, surprised at his voice. It was hoarse.

"Anytime." Brass said, smiling a little

They all rushed over. Sara and Catherine untied the ropes binding his ankles and wrists, while Warrick radioed for a ambulance.

Grissom smiled at his team… his friends. "Hey, thanks for saving my ass."

Catherine grinned, although there was tears gleaming in her blue eyes

I better tell them, Grissom thought. He went to speak, but darkness swam in front of his eyes. And he abruptly lost consciousness. 


	20. Chapter Twenty- Things already known

Grissom was in a sublime state of semi-consciousness. He felt blissfully numb, and uncaring. He heard a strange, rhythmic beeping noise, and decided to open his eyes.

He was lying in a hospital bed.

He glanced over and saw his team sitting at his bedside. 

"Hey." he said, surprised to hear that his voice was raspy, low, and hoarse

The others started, surprised to see him awake.

"Hey sleeping beauty. Thanks for gracing us with your presence." Sara joked, grinning

Grissom grinned back. He noticed a IV in his arm, and decided that he was on morphine. And that he loved it. He was feeling almost euphoric, and more than slightly disconnected from reality. He imagined that he was looking rather bright-eyed and happy.

Catherine was staring at him, "Don't ever do that again."

He was confused, "Do what again?"

"You almost died on us." she said, her voice sounding slightly scolding

"Really," he asked wryly, examining his left arm and foot, which bore casts, "I didn't think it was that bad."

"One of the stab wounds nicked your femoral artery. You were gushing like hell." Catherine replied, remembering the hellish ride in the ambulance. Grissom pale as milk, the thick, crimson blood streaming everywhere.

Grissom frowned, he didn't remember much of that night. But he did remember what he thought was his dying thoughts.

Better tell them now, he thought, maybe they'll blame the drugs for the sudden burst of sentiment.

He cleared his throat experimentally, and they all quieted.

"I've got something to tell you guys." he said, straining to make himself heard

They all nodded, their eyes focused on him, and normally he would have felt uncomfortable, but the morphine made him feel like Superman.

"For a minute there, I thought I was a goner… so I was thinking. And I have something to tell all of you." he said, staring at them intently

He began to tell them the thoughts that had formed in his mind while Kali McIntyre had been working him over, but Nick raised up a hand, signaling a halt.

"What?" Grissom asked

Nick smiled, "It's okay. We already knew."

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Finished.


End file.
